Subtle Innuendos Follow
by Chasing Rabbits
Summary: Kenny hates the club scene. As it turns out, the same is not the case for South Park's resident Goody Two Shoes. There must be something inside. Bunny. Oneshot


_"No one's gonna tell me_  
_What's wrong or what's right_  
_Or tell me who to eat with sleep with_  
_Or that I've won the big fight, big fight"_

Kenny hates clubs with a burning passion.

Moreover, he hates that Karen is somehow able to get him to go to them anyway.

Karen and Ruby have fallen head over heels in love with this gay club that cropped up just outside of town about a decade ago. Kenny only remembers when it happened because it was just at the end of middle school, just when he and all his friends started riding the hormone rollercoaster. Cartman spearheaded the anti-gay movement the moment that club went up (of course), all because Kyle had said, in passing, _one time_, that having a gay club near town would be "okay" and that he "didn't care much either way".

It inadvertently jostled Kyle into gay activism in their high school years, which was only so funny because he wasn't even gay.

Kenny doesn't think he is, anyway. Great gaydar isn't necessarily a part of the pansexuality package.

Scratch that—Kenny doesn't _care_.

He's twenty-four now, and aside from a select few kids from his graduating class, he's been left alone in South Park. Kyle went to Yale (fucking _Yale_), Stan headed to Arizona State (which, he did admit, had been the worst mistake he'd ever made and transferred two years later to UC Davis to study his veterinary shit), Cartman ended up at Cornell… Kenny supposes that's what happens when you make friends who have _aspirations_.

Kenny got into school over in Boulder, which had been a surprise. His dad died a few months before graduation, though, and he couldn't go. Instead he let himself get stuck in South Park and, subsequently, stuck at "Over the Rainbow", which is, in Kenny's opinion, the worst name for a gay club on the planet.

"How long do you guys want to be here, exactly?" Kenny asks Ruby and Karen as they approach the bar. They're done up in horrible 1980s garb, as tonight is 80s night.

Also known as the ninth level of Kenny's own personal hell.

"I don't know," Karen shouts over the techno-heavy remix of Mickey thumping through the club. "Until we're ready to go. Two cosmos, please."

"That's bullshit, Karen," Kenny groans. The club is insanely packed for how in the middle of nowhere it is, and Kenny is already being ogled like crazy by nearly every guy that passes. He knows that Karen and Ruby only bring him so they'll get served at the bar, which isn't as irritating as Kenny should probably find it.

"Relax," Ruby chides. "It's Friday night," she sings.

"And I just got paid!" Karen finishes with her.

"I hate to tell you girls," the bartender shakes his head as he pushes their cosmos across the bar. "But you're in the wrong decade. N*Sync was the 90s, and that song in particular was 2000."

"Oo, ouch," Kenny deadpans. "Give them some ice for that burn. Or at least give me a whiskey sour."

The bartender winks at him and makes his drink in what has to be record time. Kenny never really cared for whiskey sours before his dad died, but there's something about them that make him nostalgic now. His dad may have been a raging asshole most of the time, but he did try to be a good dad in his own way.

Or maybe that's just his Catholic inability to speak ill of the dead.

Karen and Ruby toss back their drinks and disappear onto the dance floor all too quickly, leaving Kenny at the bar with nothing but a drink in hand and the muscle-headed bartender for company. Kenny doesn't mind so much—he's had worse company before, and a guy who comes up to the bar buys him another whiskey sour before he even gets finished with his first one.

And then another guy buys him another just as he's finishing his second.

This is honestly the only reason he ever comes to this place. He doesn't get free drinks anywhere else.

"Hey there, Mike," comes a familiar voice next to his ear. "Can I get a shot of that UV Cake?"

"Yeah, just a second man, I'm swamped down here."

Kenny looks over his shoulder toward the source of the voice and… no. No, it can't be Butters Stotch.

Butters Stotch was the sweet guy who led Key Club and lived _straight edge_. Never with even so much as a hair out of place on his head. He got into some fancy school or something-Kenny's surprised he even came back to South Park. He thought Butters was smarter than that.

At any rate, Butters Stotch certainly wouldn't be caught dead in nothing but a pair of tight jeans, or smeared head to toe in body glitter. It's even in his hair, all swooped up in fine wisps that make Kenny's fingers itch.

"Butters?" Kenny finally has to ask, and Butters looks over.

Fuck there is no way this kid is sober. He has the world's biggest smile on his face, and he keeps rubbing his ten dollar bill over the back of his hand and rolling it in between his fingers.

"Kenny!" Butters exclaims and launches himself into Kenny's arms. "Kenny, I haven't seen you in forever!" Butters rubs his cheek over Kenny's hair, runs his fingers over Kenny's shirt like he's never felt a t-shirt before.

"Hey, dude," Kenny chuckles as Butters' cheek grazes the stubble on his jaw. "You rollin' or what?"

Butters pulls away from the hug and shushes him, like anyone with their head on straight wouldn't be able to tell.

"I got it from a real nice guy in the bathroom," he says, smiling still. "I got an extra hit in my pocket—you want some?"

"No, man, I'm okay," Kenny lifts his drink in explanation. "You're feelin' pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah," Butters giggles. He stuffs his bill back in his pocket in order to run his fingers over Kenny's shirt some more. "This stuff is awesome."

"Is this the first time you've taken it?" Kenny asks, voice calm and friendly, and Butters nods.

"How can you tell?" he asks.

"I've been around," Kenny gives an affectionate roll of his eyes. "Listen, did whoever sold this to you tell you that you're not supposed to drink alcohol with it?"

Butters' eyes get wide at that as he shakes his head. Shit, this could be bad. Kenny slaps a smile on his face and grabs Butters' hands in his

"How long have you been dancing, dude?" he asks.

"I don't know, a while," Butters replies, far off. "I'm real thirsty."

"Do me a favor," Kenny says very carefully. "I need you to get a bottle of water and drink some water, okay? Water is going to make you feel much better than vodka right now, trust me. And then come outside with me."

"Why?" Butters' face immediately falls. "I didn't do anythin' wrong, I swear. I-I'm havin' fun in here."

"You can come back in after," Kenny quickly amends. "I need a cigarette and I don't want to go alone."

Dumb, but it seems to placate Butters enough. When the bartender comes back around, Kenny orders a bottle of water for Butters, finishes his drink, and tugs Butters outside. It's the middle of September, so it's still relatively nice outside at this time of night, and if they sit in the bed of Kenny's truck they can get away from the pulsing music of the club. Kenny lights a cigarette and takes a nice deep drag as Butters cracks the bottle open and takes a big gulp of water.

"Whoa, buddy," Kenny snatches the bottle away. "Small sips, dude. I know it's hard, but sips feel better."

Butters nods and Kenny gives him back the water. In the dim light of the parking lot, Kenny can see Butters' raccoon eyeliner running in sweat lines down his face, and, to his delight, sees the small metal rings pierced through both of Butters' nipples.

"I wanna go back an' dance," Butters whines and thunks his head back against the truck.

"I know," Kenny purses his lips and brings a hand up to fluff at the back of Butters' hair. It's just as soft as Kenny always imagined, and he knows from personal experience that having your hair played with while you're this high is nothing short of heavenly. "Just sit out here with me for a little bit and then you can go back in."

Butters whines again and wiggles under Kenny's touch, which makes Kenny's lips tug up into a smile. He makes Butters wait until he's done with his cigarette, but before he suggests a return to the club, Butters is in his lap, running is lips over Kenny's stubble and running his fingers through Kenny's dry, frayed hair.

"You feel real good," Butters grins, breath ghosting across Kenny's lips, and like that Kenny starts getting hard in his jeans.

It would be a lie to say Kenny hasn't thought about it before—there was something so alluring about Butters when they were younger. Maybe it was that he was incredibly naïve, maybe it was just that he was cute; in any case, it led to Kenny blowing his load a few too many times at the thought of fucking Butters senseless.

His seventeen-year-old self would slap him for what he's about to do.

"Hey," Kenny says right as Butters' lips close over his. He pulls Butters away and strokes his thumbs over his cheeks. He's going to be covered in glitter by the time he gets home. "Let's not do this right now."

Butters Stotch has a pout on him like no other. Even under the cracked make up and glazed over eyes, he still manages to look like the poor ten-year-old kid Kenny will forever associate him with. So, Kenny kisses him again, quick and sweet, before pulling back and saying, "I wanna dance with you first."

Butters' smile returns at that, and before Kenny can even chastise himself for openly volunteering to dance, he's on the dance floor, grinding against Butters like there's no tomorrow.

Alcohol does tend to make him a better dancer, anyway.

It's three in the morning by the time Karen and Ruby drag him out of the club. Kenny insists that they take Butters with them, because he's here on his own and he doesn't want anything bad to happen. Not to Butters. Kenny's accidentally overdosed, mixed drug A with drug B… a lot of stupid shit. He's died on E before, and it's not fucking pleasant.

He doesn't want that for Butters.

So, they take Butters back to the McCormick homestead with them. Ruby crashes in Karen's bed with her while Butters burrows into Kenny's.

There is glitter everywhere, and a pretty boy all over his stuff, and he doesn't trust himself with the situation okay?

Kenny crashes on the couch downstairs and remains there for a solid six hours before his mom accidentally drops a mug of orange juice in the kitchen and wakes him.

"Aw, goddamn it," she sniffs as she bends to wipe up. Kenny grunts and rolls off the couch, grabbing the broom out of the corner and sweeping a path clear for her.

Karen and Ruby are talking about getting an apartment in Denver after saving up for so long.

Kenny could easily move out by now, but he won't. He can't leave his mom on her own—she'd have a nervous breakdown

"Thanks, baby," she puts a hand on his chest and kisses him on the cheek. "What were you doin' on the couch?"

"My bed has been commandeered," Kenny sniffs as he sweeps the broken mug into a pile. He picks up the pieces and puts them in the sink, pointedly ignoring his mom's knowing look the entire time.

"Uh-huh," she shakes her head and glances at the clock on the microwave. "Shit, I'm gonna be late for my shift. Thanks for cleanin' that up, Kenny; you're a good boy."

He blots up the juice with a dirty towel and watches as his mom bolts out the door. She's been trying hard. Not at anything in particular, Kenny doesn't think—just trying hard. He tosses the towel into the sink with the broken cup and goes upstairs to check on Butters.

Butters is tangled up in Kenny's blankets, awake but looking unable to move.

"Hey, buddy," Kenny leans on the door jamb. "How're you doin' there?"

"I'm cold," Butters sniffs. "A-an' I feel real yucky."

"Aw," Kenny walks over to his bed and stretches out beside Butters. "You're okay, don't worry. C'mere."

Butters wriggles into Kenny's arms and buries his face in his chest. They both smell like sweat and alcohol and _club scene_. It's kind of nasty and Kenny would love a shower. He bets Butters would too.

"You wanna shower?" Kenny asks. "I think I'm out of shampoo, but you can use Karen's if you want. I don't think she'll mind."

"Come with me?" Butters sniffles, looking up at Kenny with these eyes that make it impossible to say no. He doesn't make it a habit to shower with other people, but he can make an exception in this case. They had gym together in high school, they've showered and seen each other naked before. Plus, the poor guy might go nuts if Kenny rejects him.

"Yeah, let's go," Kenny says and pulls Butters up off the bed with him. "Come on, the come down is always the worst the first time."

Kenny locks the bathroom door behind them and starts the water. Butters strips quickly, making quick work of both his jeans and his tight little briefs before dropping his hands to cover himself up. Kenny laughs.

"You don't need to be modest, dude," he says as he pulls off his own shirt. "I know what you're packin', it's all good."

Butters nods and looks over at the toilet as Kenny shucks his pants and undies.

"Uh, Kenny?" Butters shifts. "Would you mind gettin' in the shower while I, uh… pee?"

Kenny looks at him for a second before smiling and stepping in the shower. "Sure, dude," he says, "Just don't flush, okay? Wait 'til we're done."

When Butters is all finished, he steps in the shower with Kenny and under the lukewarm spray. Glitter slides off his body and swirls around their feet.

"Hey, Ken?" Butters pipes up.

"Yeah, Butters," Kenny replies as he stares fixed at his nails and _not_ at Butters' perfectly shaped ass.

"I-I'm real sorry about last night," Butters says softly and turns around. His make-up is running down his face, enough so that Kenny starts laughing as he hands Butters a bar of soap.

"It's okay, dude," Kenny chuckles.

"I-I mean it," Butters insists. "I didn't know what the heck I was doin' last night. Thanks for lookin' out for me."

"Ah, it's in my nature, dude," Kenny says as Butters lathers himself up. He loses track of his thoughts very fast, even as Butters rinses his face and looks at Kenny expectantly. "Uh," Kenny gulps. "You're super hot. Did you know that?"

Butters looks confused for about half a second before he starts laughing.

"I did, believe it or not," he says. "You're not so bad yourself."

There's a knock on the door that jolts the both of them, followed by Karen's insistent, "Keep it civil, dickwads! Don't waste all the hot water fucking in it!"

"Choke on your girlfriend's tits, Karen!" Kenny calls back as he pulls Butters in by his hips and kisses him on the neck.

"Better than your boyfriend's dick, cocksucker!"

Kenny snorts and noses at Butters' jaw, "She wishes." Butters claps a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle. Kenny removes Butters' hand and gives him a watery kiss. In return, he snags Kenny's lip ring lightly between his teeth and gives a little pull.

When Butters' tongue slides in alongside his, he feels something click against his tongue ring.

Butters has his own tongue ring.

_Fuck._

"Can I suck you off?" Kenny asks hastily as he pulls back.

"I-in here?" Butters croaks, and laughs a little when Kenny nods his head. "I-I can barely even stand up."

Kenny doesn't think he's ever gotten clean so fast in his life. He pulls Butters along, right out of the bathroom and back into his bedroom. There's glitter all over his bed, but if Butters doesn't care neither does Kenny. He pulls Butters into another kiss, quick and short, before he moves to lock his door.

Butters sits down on the bed just on the edge right as Kenny walks back toward him.

"You want me to take care of you?" he asks as he kneels between Butters' legs.

"If you want," Butters laughs softly as Kenny trails his fingertips up Butters' legs. "You're real good at it, I bet."

Kenny gives him a smile as he takes his half-hard cock in his hand and starts stroking. Butters groans softly, like he hasn't been touched in ages, and relaxes into it. Kenny hopes that's not true—if anyone deserves to feel good, it's Butters.

"You've got a nice cock," Kenny sighs and rests his cheek against Butters' thigh. Butters whines, getting harder and harder under Kenny's touch. It's intensely satisfying, knowing he's making Butters feel nice.

He likes making people feel nice.

"I-" Butters' breath hitches, "I seem to remember somethin' about gettin' sucked off?"

Kenny grins and glances up at Butters. He's pink all over, but Kenny's not sure if that's from the shower or from this. It could be from both, he supposes. He teases the ball of his tongue ring just over the tip of Butters' dick before leaning up to kiss him. Butters whimpers into it, threading his fingers in Kenny's wet hair and tugging, hard.

Kenny fucking loves it.

"Fuck, Butters," he sighs as Butters licks at his upper lip. When Butters gives him an innocent smile, Kenny absolutely can't take it anymore. He ducks down and sucks Butters into his mouth. Butters makes such pretty noises too—nice little whimpers and full throaty moans that send Kenny's mind running at a million miles a minute.

"_Fuck_," Butters gasps as Kenny takes him all the way into his throat. Deep throating is usually something Kenny saves for a rainy day, but he can tell Butters needs it. He loves the way Butters tugs on his hair, or the way he says Kenny's name when Kenny does something just right.

Kenny pulls off for a minute to catch his breath, earning him a desperate whine and a few mumbled swears.

"Do you," Kenny gulps back a breath. "What do you want?"

Another whine, followed by a needy, "I wanna come, Kenny." Like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"You want me to keep doing this?" Kenny asks. "Or do you want me to fuck you?" Then it occurs to him, "I—shit. Sorry. I don't even know if you do that kind of thing."

Butters looks like he's at a standstill in his thoughts, weighing the options of each scenario before he voices his decision.

"Ah," he hides his face in his hands before he comes out with, "Uh, fuck. Fucking is good."

"Okay," Kenny grins, ecstatic. He grabs the box of condoms and bottle of lube out from under his bed. He's had it for a few months now and it's still atrociously full. That's what he gets for pulling so many double shifts, he guesses.

"'m too lazy to move," Butters moans and slides off the bed. "I'm just gonna turn around. Is that all right?"

"Perfection," Kenny nods and pecks him on the lips. Butters gives a dopey grin before he turns over and drapes himself over the side of the bed.

Never before has Kenny felt such an urgency to stick his fingers in someone's ass before. He lubes up and slides in one of his digits, maybe a little too fast but Butters doesn't seem to mind. When he adds another, he gets an appreciative moan and a little hip wiggle.

Kenny catches Butters' prostate and Butters goes from needy moans to desperate pleas in two seconds flat, saying things like '_harder'_ and '_more'_ and '_fuckfuckfuck'_.

"God, Kenny please, just do it already," Butters whimpers. "I want you inside me so bad. Please?"

It's hard to deny such a polite request, especially from such a polite guy. Kenny withdraws his fingers and tries to open a condom packet with his slippery hands. He finally gets it when he uses his teeth and rolls the slick rubber over himself.

Butters is hot and tight, and it's absolutely mind-bending being inside him even just a little bit. He pushes in slowly, but Butters meets him halfway and sinks the rest of the way down all at once.

Kenny gives him a minute to adjust before he starts moving.

"Harder," Butters breathes against the sheets.

"Ha-hang on," Kenny huffs. "I just started. I don't want to hurt you."

"Harder!" Butters insists, like a petulant child, and starts fucking back to compensate for Kenny's lack of movement.

"Too tired to move," Kenny barks out a laugh. "My ass." He hauls Butters up to his knees and bends him properly over the bed before sinking inside him again. "You want rough?" he asks as he pins Butters' by the shoulders to the bed. Butters whines and nods, and fine—Kenny obliges.

"Oh, fuck," Butters yelps as Kenny slams into him, hard. Kenny stops to make sure he didn't actually hurt Butters, because he doesn't want that, but he just ends up getting yelled at:

"If you stop one more time I'm gonna come back there and fuck you myself!"

"Jesus," Kenny laughs. "Yes sir."

He can't help but feel like he's being too rough at first, even though Butters is obviously into it. He eventually falls into a rhythm, one that's all skin-slapping and grunts and Butters holding onto Kenny's sheets for dear life with one hand and jerking himself off at a frantic pace with the other.

Butters comes first, all over Kenny's mattress and floor, and Kenny follows not long after. He buries his nose in the sweaty nape of Butters' neck as his orgasm makes the sides of his vision go blurry, biting just where neck meets shoulder to muffle the sound of his moans.

They stay there for a few moments before Kenny slides out of Butters and Butters slips off the bed and down onto the floor. Kenny can't help but laugh when Butters does and peels off the condom to toss it in the trash.

"That was awesome," Butters hums and props himself up on his elbows. "How come we never did that before?"

Kenny laughs again and shrugs. "You got me, man," he yawns and scratches at his chest. "You wanna get some breakfast or something?"

Butters raises his eyebrows, a smile still ghosting over his lips, and cocks his head.

"Conventionally speaking, the wining and dining happens before the sex, doesn't it?" he asks.

"Well, you know it's all about convention for me," Kenny offers him a grin.

Butters whines and flops back against the floor. "Make me breakfast," he says. "I don't wanna get up."

"Mm," Kenny crawls on top of him and runs his hands over Butters' chest, stopping to flick at his nipple rings before moving to his abdomen. "You want cherry poptarts? Because that's breakfast in this house."

Butters giggles and wrinkles his nose and Kenny can't help it, he has to kiss him again.

Kissing Butters is nice.

"I'll loan you a non-glittery shirt, come on," Kenny squishes Butters' face between his hands before rolling to his feet.

They get dressed and trot downstairs, past Karen and Ruby (who are eyeing them with the utmost disgust) and out to Kenny's truck.

"You think they heard us?" Butters asks as he buckles himself in.

"Dude, I think Buddhist monks in Thailand heard you," Kenny chuckles. Butters is in one of Kenny's [many] AC/DC shirts—it's a little too tight on him, but Kenny likes it like that. He looks good.

They drive to Country Kitchen Buffett and get a table between an old couple and an even older couple. Everyone keeps staring at them, but Kenny can't be fucked to care.

"Dude, where the hell have you been?" Kenny asks as Butters' eyes flit over the menu. He's got a little smear of glitter on one cheek, from where it was pressed against the bed, and Kenny can't help but smile.

"Oh, I been here an' there," Butters shrugs. "I ended up doin' a few semesters at Northwestern before uh… well, you know my dad had a heart attack a few years back."

"Oh, shit," Kenny frowns. "I totally fucking forgot about that, I'm sorry, dude."

"Yeah, he hasn't been in great health since," Butters folds his arms on the table. "We didn't know if he was gonna be okay for a while, so I came home after second year and took a year long leave of absence… and then another, and another, and I just ended up not goin' back. Me and my mom have to foot a lot of the bills now since my dad's out of work."

Kenny nods. He's fucking been there, man. "And when did all of this happen," he gestures at Butters' general person. Butters' cheeks color just a bit as he covers his face with his menu.

"Hey!" Kenny laughs and kicks Butters' foot underneath the table. "Tongue piercing, when did that happen?"

"Beginning of freshman year," Butters lowers his menu slightly.

Kenny whistles, "Damn boy, right out the gate. I'm impressed."

Butters moves his menu to the side and whispers, "If there weren't so many old people around I'd tell you to go fuck yourself."

"If there weren't so many old people around, I would," Kenny shoots back. Butters shakes his head in response.

The waitress takes their orders and pours each of them a cup of coffee. Butters drowns his in creamer; Kenny has always preferred his black.

"What the fuck were you doing at a club by yourself?" Kenny asks as Butters constructs a pyramid out of the used creamers.

"Hm?" Butters looks up. "Oh, y'know… I just get real tired of my parents a lot of the time. Sometimes I go to the movies, but the club is better for anonymous sex and techno remixes of old pop songs."

"And E," Kenny smirks over the lip of his coffee mug. Butters rolls his eyes.

"I heard it was fun, okay?" he says.

"Was it?" Kenny asks.

"I'm surprised I don't have stubble burn all over my cheeks," Butters smiles as he reaches over the table to drag his fingers over Kenny's jaw. It sends a shudder down Kenny's spine, and he's absolutely okay with that.

He likes Butters touching him.

"Thanks for lookin' out for me, again," Butters says. "You were nicer to me than most people woulda been."

The frankness of the statement churns Kenny's gut in exactly the wrong way, but he tries to ignore it.

"Dude, if you want to do stupid shit, always do it with someone," he shakes his head instead. "You can always call me, I'm happy to be your stupid shit buddy."

"Uh-huh," Butters grins and leans in close so he can ask, softly, "And what if I just want someone to fuck the living daylights out of me?"

Kenny swallows hard. "I'm nothing if not multipurpose," he replies after a moment. Butters bites his lip and, in the middle of Country Kitchen Buffet, pecks a kiss to Kenny's lips like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Kenny supposes he can live with that.

* * *

**Hi guys I wrote a oneshot. **

**The title and quote at the beginning are from the song _Goody Two Shoes_ by _Adam Ant_.**


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